


Building Bridges

by Please_just_let_me_have_a_username



Category: Original Work
Genre: Depression, Ice Cream, Original Character(s), References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:27:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23339923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Please_just_let_me_have_a_username/pseuds/Please_just_let_me_have_a_username
Summary: "I’ve been crying for some time now. I was trying not to, but the onslaught of horrible thoughts and realisations that have been attacking me for the past three miles haven’t been that easy to ignore."
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Building Bridges

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so watch out for the tags, this is a not-so-fun story. Be careful, please :)  
> I just wrote this because I'm bored and looking to vent some pent-up emotions.  
> 

I pause my music before stepping onto the lowest bar of the railing and swinging my legs over to sit. The speeding headlights below me are a blur in my teary-eyed vision and I breathe in a shuddered breath and let out yet another sob. I’ve been crying for some time now. I was trying not to, but the onslaught of horrible thoughts and realisations that have been attacking me for the past three miles haven’t been that easy to ignore.  
As I sit for a couple of minutes longer, trying to calm my breathing and simply starting at the absence of stars in the sky, I can sense my own tension building in anticipation of my decision. The choice I’ve made every single day unknowingly throughout my childhood, and the choice that became more and more deliberate the older I got.  
I had made up my mind when I left the house. I started on my way to the place I had thought about time and time again and the whole way over I had my mind set on what I was going to do. I’ve got a decent number of years under my belt, isn’t that enough?  
Yet, as I sit here, I can’t help but feel a loss. I know that no one is going to come to find me, that no one cares. I know that it really is better this way. But, I just wish that I could’ve had a better life. I wish that someone did care, even if I didn’t deserve it. I wish that I could’ve been better. Maybe, even, under different circumstances that would have been possible, but now it’s too late for me. I left my note, I said my goodbyes, and now I’ve made my choice again for the last time. It’s time to go.  
I pause my music before stepping onto the lowest bar of the railing and swinging my legs over to sit. The speeding headlights below me are a blur in my teary-eyed vision and I breathe in a shuddered breath and let out yet another sob. I’ve been crying for some time now. I wasn’t trying to, but the onslaught of horrible thoughts and realisations that have been attacking me for the past three miles haven’t been that easy to ignore.  
As I sit for a couple of minutes longer, trying to calm my breathing and simply starting at the absence of stars in the sky, I can sense my own tension building in anticipation of my decision. The choice I’ve made every single day unknowingly throughout my childhood, and the choice that became more and more deliberate the older I got.  
I had made up my mind when I left the house. I started on my way to the place I had thought about time and time again and the whole way over I had my mind set on what I was going to do. I’ve got a decent number of years under my belt, isn’t that enough?  
Yet, as I sit here, I can’t help but feel a loss at the horrible realisation that no one is going to come to find me, that no one cares. I know that it really is better this way. But, I just wish that I could’ve had a better life. I wish that someone did care, even if I didn’t deserve it. I wish that I could’ve been better. Maybe, even, under different circumstances that would have been possible, but now it’s too late for me. I left my notes, I said my goodbyes, and now I’ve made my choice again for the last time. I feel some unknown feeling pushing me off; It’s time to go.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I haven’t been feeling too hot for the past couple of months. By ‘not too hot’ I mean that I literally think about dying every single day. Ya know, as you do. Today I finally decided to make the commitment. I mean, my closest friend is my next-door neighbour, and our relationship is ‘wave at the other person as we get the mail, say “Hi” and go inside,’ but I still thought that they should hear from me at least once more before once I’m gone, so I put a little note in their mailbox on my way out.  
I’m a little scared at how little I care about this. I’ve never cared less in my whole life, and today is my last day of existence. One would think that I’d feel something, right?  
I guess that’s why I’m doing this I suppose. I mean why not? If all I exist to do is take up space, might as well be six feet underground where I won’t bother anyone and no one will bother me.  
I approach my destination, but as soon as I’m close enough to peer through the darkness at the odd shape that resides on the railing, I feel a pit in my stomach forming from the impact of my heart sinking through it. Someone beat me to the chase.  
Nevermind that. Just because someone else is here doesn’t mean that I can’t do what I want to do. I walk up, still apathetic as anything, and take a place next to the stranger so that I may throw myself down onto the highway below.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I stare at the stranger, bewildered at their nonchalant approach as they plop themselves down next to me, only giving a casual nod before turning their attention to the cars below.  
What.  
Okay, this really isn’t ideal, but I suppose at least it’ll be nice to not have to spend my last moments alone? Isn’t that ironic, lived alone but died in company. Pretty sad, isn’t it? I really should have gotten a pet or something. Maybe then I would’ve had a will to live-  
“So, are you gonna jump?”  
Startled, I turn my head to my happenstantial companion. “Wh-what?” They were very blunt with their words which really caught me off guard.  
“I asked if you were jumping. I’m going to.” They said this as if they were asking if I was signing up for a ceramics class in the spring or something. “If you want to, you can go first. Or, if you want, I can go first and then maybe the image of my obliterated body scattered across the road could convince you to do otherwise. Or perhaps you’d like to go together?”  
“I-uh…” I am utterly shocked. I have no words to communicate with this person.  
“That’s alright, take your time. You’ve got the rest of your life to decide.” They chuckled at their own joke.  
“Are you for real?” I inquire, still in a state of speechlessness.  
“Yeah mate, I’ve got nothing else to do besides die. Might as well be polite before I do.”  
“Well, if you’re alright with it, we should go at the same time since we’re both here.”  
“Sounds good, whenever you’re ready.”  
We sat in silence as more and more time passed. After about ten minutes I finally spoke up again. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“These really are our last moments. It kind of feels weird to put it in perspective.”  
I look to the taller figure next to me as they whisper these words. When I first walked up to them it looked as though they had just stopped crying. Now the tears were flowing again.  
“I mean, we chose this. We decided that right now is when we’re going to stop having to be alive. When we’re going to die… I am going to die.” Their voice cracks as they choke out the last words, realisation seeming to hit them on the face with a 2x4.  
When they say this, realisation moves from them to me and proceeds to jab me in the stomach. I feel for the first time in months. I feel sorrow. Sorrow for the loss of things that haven’t yet accomplished or experienced, sorrow for the fact that this person, sitting right next to me, won’t get to continue with their life, sorrow that both of us are here, alone, about to commit suicide, and sorrow that neither of us sees another option.  
“Can I hug you?” I ask them, interrupting their broken sobs as they stare at me, shocked (the only emotion they seem to really look at me with apparently), but they nod and I put an awkward arm around their shoulder in an attempt to ease both of our pain.  
They continue to cry, the sobs wracking through their body but their feet holding on to the railing securing them. All around us is a feeling of hopelessness and despair. I don’t know what to do. Months of pain comes bubbling to the surface as I sit dangerously close to death, willing my own tears to go away.

~ ~ ~

About an hour passes and I check my watch. It’s three in the morning. Neither of us has spoken a word since I asked for permission to hug, and both I and the person in my arm have run out of tears to cry. I don’t even know their name. I look down at the road, once again, and for once tonight there’s a break in the traffic. It is quiet. It is serene.  
The bar I’m sitting on is really uncomfortable now, and the longer I sit the more I’m willed to move. As they shift their grip on my hoodie, my companion seems to be thinking the same thing.  
“What do you say we get off this bar for a bit and stand on some solid ground?” My voice sounds thicker and shakier than I expect. I don’t have to look to a comrade to feel them nod with their head on my chest. I carefully assist them back over the bar, then take myself over as well. We stand for a bit, in the dark quiet. I don’t know what to say or do until they speak up, their voice also shakey and thick. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“I don’t think that today is a good day for either of us to die.” I can barely get the words out of my mouth. It feels foreign to speak.  
They nod, and we both look at each other solemnly. I rub my sleeves where I used them to wipe my eyes, feeling the wet fabric between my fingers.  
“Now what?” I don’t know if they’re talking to me or themself.  
“I don’t know. I didn’t make it this far when I planned this out.”  
“I-uh-really don’t want to be alone right now.”  
“I don’t either.”  
More silence.  
“You know, when most people know they’re going to die, they try to do absolutely everything they ever wanted to do before they lose their chance,” they reckoned, “but I’m going to guess that neither of us did that before tonight.”  
“Well, yeah. Why?”  
“We got our own taste of death. I say we deserve to live a little.”  
“Yeah? And do what?”  
“I don’t know, we could get ice cream for all I care. It’s 3 AM, we got all night.”  
“I think ice cream sounds great.”

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone is feeling like they wanna give up, there are people to talk to. I know it may not feel like it, but if you wanna, please text 741-741, call 1-800-273-8255, or even talk to me. I'll try to help as much as I can. You're not alone!
> 
> Let me know how this was! Like, seriously, drown me in constructive criticism. During this pandemic, I wanna practice writing more and getting better at it, so I'd love tips or whatever you've got. Even if you hated, let me know. 
> 
> <3


End file.
